Thoughtcrimes: The Price of Honor
by Titan5
Summary: Brendan and Freya track a group getting ready to sell stolen weapons and explosives to terrorists, but the case gets personal for Brendan.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **This is my first Thoughtcrimes fiction, so please feel free to let me know what you think. Also, please forgive the medical mistakes, as I'm sure there are some.

**Thoughtcrimes: The Price of Honor – Chapter 1**

"Look, we know the people you work for are responsible for the recent gun thefts and the heist of that shipment of military weapons and explosives. What I need to know, is who they plan on selling them to, when, and where." Brendan Dean sat back in the chair, calmly folding his hands together on the table. He was sitting in an interrogation room across from Carlos Munez, a short and slightly pudgy illegal immigrant from across the southern border. Beside him sat Freya McAllister, his partner, who just happened to be a telepath.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Carlos smugly.

Brendan smiled confidently and turned to look at Freya, who also smiled as she stared intently at their prisoner. "They're selling the weapons to terrorists . . . to a man named Sharif."

Carlos's eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open a little. "How did you know that? I did not say anything. You must not let them think I told you anything or they will kill me. Please, I did not say anything."

Brendan shared a smirk with Freya, confident that they now actually had a fighting chance of stopping the sale of a huge amount of stolen weapons that could eventually kill a lot of people if not recovered soon. He shifted his gaze back at Carlos, who was looking very scared. "You know, Carlos, we could probably offer you some protection if you helped us. Maybe even put out a false story that you were being very uncooperative and that's why we had you isolated."

Carlos hesitated, looking around nervously and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "You could do that?"

Brendan nodded. "Absolutely." He leaned forward, gazing intently at the other man. "But I can't help you unless you help me. So, what do you say?"

Carlos licked his lips, rubbing his hands together for a few seconds. "Okay, I will tell you what I know, but you have to protect me."

Brendan gave one big nod. "We will, but you have to talk to me."

Carlos looked intently at Brendan and then at Freya, taking a deep breath, as if to fortify himself. When he looked back at Brendan, he started talking. "Okay. I work for John Walters. I owe the man who helped me into this country a lot of money, and he sold my debt to Walters, so I now I work for him. I do not know when or where the meeting is to take place. It had not been arranged yet when I was arrested, but I do know he was going to Chinatown to set it up."

Brendan sat and stared at the man. "That's it?"

Carlos shrugged. "I can tell you where we had the weapons stored, but with me arrested, it has been moved by now."

Brendan let out a long sigh and bowed his head.

"You did not say what I had to know, only that I told you what I did know. You have to protect me."

Brendan nodded and lifted his head. "I know what I said and you'll get your protection. Just . . . have them call me if you think of anything else. And I'll need that storage site."

Carlos nodded and spouted off an address. Brendan waved to the officers watching from the window and two guards filed in to take Carlos. "Put him in an isolated cell and post a couple of extra guards. Make sure you keep other prisoners away from him." _Man, I thought we had it for a minute._

Freya placed a hand on his arm. "It wasn't a total loss. We have a name and a place to start."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I've dealt with Walters before, thought I had him once, but he got off. Come on, we have work to do." Brendan got up and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair. Freya followed him out the door, pulling her own coat on as they walked. Taking out his phone, he called from the hallway to have agents check out the warehouse for the stored weapons.

When they got in the car a few minutes later, she glanced over at Brendan. "Where are we going?"

"I have a source or two in Chinatown. We're going to start asking questions." Brendan smiled as he drove. _I also know the best Chinese restaurant you'll ever eat at._

Freya grinned and looked over at Brendan's big grin. "And what if I don't like Chinese?" 

Brendan shrugged his shoulders. "Tough."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I happen to like Chinese."

oOo

After two hours of walking around Chinatown and talking to several people, they still didn't know diddly. As they walked out of a clothing store following their fruitless discussion with Brendan's last source, Freya put her hands on her hips. "We still have nothing. None of those people knew anything."

Brendan calmly nodded. "It's close to lunch. Let's go eat." He smiled at her. "I'll treat."

Freya tilted her head a little, seeking his thoughts. "What aren't you telling me?"

Brendan smiled smugly. _I have a few secrets up my sleeve. Walk this way. _Brendan sauntered down the sidewalk, only to look over his shoulder to find her imitating his walk, but with an exaggerated swagger. "Funny. You better quit that or I'll start singing Scooby Doo in my head again."

Freya placed her hand over her heart and gasped in mock fear. "No, please, anything but that."

Brendan smiled as she caught up with him. "An old friend owns that wonderful restaurant I was telling you about. He usually knows most of what's going on down here. What he doesn't already know, he can usually find out."

Freya nodded. "An old friend? Is he an informant as well?"

"No, not really. I've known him since I was a kid and he's as honest as anyone you'll ever meet. I don't often ask him for help because I don't want to get him caught in the middle. But when I get in a bind, he's always there." _He's never not been there when I needed him. He's one of the few people you can always depend on._

Freya looked at Brendan, studying his face. "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

Brendan nodded. "Yeah, he's pretty awesome. You'll like him." Brendan paused and pointed to the door to a red building with gold and black Chinese letters painted on the front. "Here we are." He opened the door and stood aside to let her pass.

They walked into a room with scattered tables and chairs and large paintings with Chinese writing on the walls. It was nice without looking expensive or garish. They stood near the entrance beside a sign saying "Please wait to be seated". It was early for lunch, so only two tables were occupied and a short girl with long dark hair waited on one of them.

"Brendan!"

They looked around the room to see an older Chinese man with long white hair and a long white beard rushing toward them. He bowed to Brendan and then the two hugged, Brendan dwarfing the small man.

The old man eyed the agent as he pulled away. "Brendan, it has been too long since I see you last. You are well?"

Brendan grinned. "I'm fine, Chen. How have you been?"

"We are well. Mai is here somewhere. She will be happy to see you." _You look tired, which means you have been working too hard again._

Brendan finally remembered Freya, standing at his side. "Oh, uh, Chen Wei, this is Freya McAllister. She works with me. Freya, this is Chen, the proud owner of this magnificent restaurant."

Chen bowed to Freya. "Do not listen to Brendan. He is kissing up for free meal."

Brendan rolled his eyes. "Right, like you've ever let me pay for anything."

Chen shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say, I feel sorry for the boy. He is skinny, works too hard, and has no love life."

Brendan pursed his lips and sighed heavily. "Could we get a table, preferably without analyzing my life?"

Chen waved his arm around the room. "Take your pick."

Brendan looked at the room and motioned toward the far corner. "What about that back table?"

Chen narrowed his gaze. "You need to talk?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

Chen nodded and grabbed a couple of menus. "Let me get you seated and turn orders in and then I will sit with you a moment." He led the way to the table in the far back corner and handed them each a menu. They gave him their drink orders and he left. A slender girl of about twenty came out with their drinks a few minutes later. She smiled as she set the drinks on the table.

"Thanks," said Brendan as he looked up. "Mai?"

"Grandfather said you were here, but I didn't believe him. You haven't been by in forever. We've missed you."

Brendan grinned sheepishly. "I know, I've been busy lately."

Mai arched one eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "You always did work too hard. You need to chill every so often, take a break." _And you are still the hottest thing in pants._

Freya looked quickly down at her menu, trying desperately not to laugh. She peeped over her menu to see Brendan scowling at her.

"I'm ready to order, Freya, what about you?" _You're up to something._

Freya nodded. "I'm ready," she said, plastering on an innocent smile.

After shooting her another warning glance, Brendan ordered his lunch and then Freya did as well. Mai gathered the menus and moved to stand right next to Brendan. "Don't be such a stranger," she seemed to breathe out. _Yeah, I'd definitely like to spend some time with you. Always have._

They watched as the slender girl moved away, her curves filling out the long silk dress in a very attractive way. "She has such a crush on you."

Brendan choked on the water he was drinking and almost knocked the glass over trying to set it down. "She does not. She's just being nice." He coughed and sputtered for several more moments, trying to catch his breath.

Freya chuckled and shook her head. "No, she really does have a major crush. She was thinking –"

Brendan frowned and shook his head. "I don't want to know that. Gosh, she's like my kid sister or something."

Freya shrugged her shoulders and giggled. "Hey, I just hear the thoughts, I don't control them."

Chen pulled out the chair next to Freya and sat down, looking across the table at Brendan. "You wanted to talk?"

Brendan nodded. "Yeah, look, I hate to get you mixed up in this, but we have a major problem. We've been tracking a group led by a man named John Walters. They've stolen weapons and explosives and have accumulated quite a stockpile. We have information that says they're going to sell to terrorists and that he came down to Chinatown to set up the buy. I need to know when and where this meeting is going to be."

Chen frowned. "Terrorists? That is bad, very bad. Such people have no honor, and neither do those that would sell to them."

"Yeah," agreed Brendan. "A lot of people will die if we don't intercept those weapons before they get sold."

Chen nodded once and sighed. "There is some big meeting to take place in three days. This is probably the meeting you seek, but I have not heard a time or place. It has been very . . . hush hush."

Brendan smiled a little, his eyes glittering. "What are the chances of you finding out a little more?"

Chen looked at him very seriously and then let a small smile play out over his lips. "Pretty good, if you promise to come entertain an old man a little more often."

Freya chose this moment to jump in. "Oh, I think I can guarantee that. I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

Chen's smile broadened. "I am sure of that. Then I will endeavor to find information for you." _And you should pay more attention to this very pretty lady, not let her slip through your fingers._

Brendan's smile quickly sobered and he leaned forward, making direct eye contact with Chen. "You need to be careful. These people have already killed and they won't hesitate to do it again. If you have to endanger yourself to get the information, then let it go. We'll find out another way."

Chen waved his hand dismissively. "Do not fret about an old man. I will be fine. Honor dictates that I must help you find these men and stop them if I can."

Brendan shook his head. "No, honor dictates that you stay safe and take care of Mai. This is my job, Chen, it's what I do. Don't take chances." _I don't think I could live with myself if you or Mai got hurt trying to help me._

Freya hesitated, then placed her hand over the old man's. "Brendan's right about this. These people are dangerous and you have to be very careful."

Chen smiled and nodded, placing his other hand on Freya's. "I understand and I will be careful. You are a very caring young woman, Freya McAllister. Be sure to take care of Brendan. He needs someone to look after him."

Brendan rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "Oh, for crying out loud," he mumbled. "I do not need someone to look after me. I'm doing just fine on my own. And quit trying to change the subject."

Chen chuckled and pulled his hands back. "All right, but I will be careful. I will call you tonight as soon as I know anything. Now, I must go check on your meal." Chen rose and bowed before moving off to the kitchen.

Freya watched him go. "He's sweet. He worries about you."

Brendan shifted around in his chair, thankful for the arrival of their food. "Thanks, Mai, it smells great." He purposely ignored both women and dug his fork deep into the pile of food.

oOo

Freya stepped into the large room, hidden in the darkness of the unlit half. A lone figure sat hunched over a desk, staring at the open file in front of him. _I have to have missed something. I've been over it and over it and I just can't figure out what's missing, but there has to be something here. I can't screw this one up._

Freya sighed and walked forward until she was standing beside Brendan's desk. "It's late, Brendan. You need to go home."

He looked up at her, eyes dark and dull with frustration as well as exhaustion. He ran one hand through his hair, something he'd apparently done a lot of because it literally stood on end all over his head. He might look comical if he didn't look so discouraged. "It's not quite nine yet. That's not late in my book. Besides, I'm waiting on Chen to call."

Freya pulled up a chair and plopped into it. "It's late by most people's standards, at least those who aren't trying to work themselves into an early grave."

Brendan snorted. "I'm just trying to do my job." _If I don't do my job and do it well, Harper will find someone else who will. I worked too hard to get where I am and I'm not giving it up without a fight. This is what I was meant to do._

"Well, you can't do your job if you drop from exhaustion."

"Let's not get overly dramatic here, it's just nine o'clock. Plenty of people put in late nights when needed, especially in this town."

Freya crossed her arms. "Well, they probably didn't stay at work all night the night before."

Brendan's head snapped up. "How did you . . . oh, yeah, never mind. So I didn't go home last night. I caught a couple of hours on the couch, I'm fine."

"How many other nights have you not gone home or only gone home for a few hours over the past week? I think lunch today was the first actual meal I've seen you eat in days. You've got to learn to back off and not let these cases take over your life. I feel the need to remind you about what happened five months ago."

Brendan sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Five months ago I got knocked in the head and had a concussion. So what."

Freya smiled. "You don't actually think I've forgotten they kept you an extra two days for exhaustion, do you? Then there's the borderline malnutrition because when you're on one of your obsessive cases, you don't eat, you know, sort of like now."

Brendan scowled and looked down at the folder, refusing to make eye contact. There wasn't much he could say in his defense. She was right. _I have to focus when I'm on a case. My mistakes can get people killed. My mistakes have gotten people killed. I can't afford to screw up again._

Freya let out a long breath and shook her head. "Brendan –"

She was interrupted by Brendan's cell phone ringing. He grabbed it off his desk, flipping it open and almost slamming it to the side of his face. "Dean." A look of relief crossed his face. "Chen, please tell me you know something." He grinned at Freya and nodded his head. "We'll be there in twenty minutes." Slapping the phone shut as he stood up, he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "He's got a time and place for us, but he says he needs to see us."

Freya could do little but hurry to catch up as Brendan practically ran out the door. At least they were getting some information. Maybe they could wrap this one up before he ended up in the hospital again, or on some psychiatrist's couch.

oOo

"Where are we going?" asked Freya, watching the snow begin to fall, tiny flakes gently floating down to melt against the warmth of the windshield.

"Chen and Mai live in an apartment above the restaurant. We're meeting him . . . " Brendan trailed off as he leaned forward, his chin almost touching the steering wheel as he peered over the tops of the buildings. His expression darkened. "Smoke."

Freya leaned forward to follow his gaze. "Do you think that's Chen's place?"

Brendan frowned as he stared ahead and gunned the car forward. _I don't much believe in coincidences._

They heard sirens in the distance as they pulled into a parking spot across the street from the restaurant, watching the smoke pour from the building. A few people were walking down the street toward the burning building, pointing and talking excitedly.

Brendan stepped out into the strong, icy wind, drawing his coat around him at the chill that seemed to slice right into him, increasingly large snowflakes pelting him in the face. "You stay here. Call it in and make sure help is on the way."

Freya ran around the car and grabbed his arm, stopping his forward progress. "Brendan, you can't go in there."

Brendan pulled his arm free, shouting back at her as he ran. "I have to get Chen and Mai out of there while there's still time. Call it in and stay here."

Freya was torn between going after him and calling for help. She assumed the sirens that were obviously getting closer were for here, but she didn't know for sure. If no one was coming and she just ran in after him, chances were that they all might die. With a loud, angry groan, she pulled out her phone and began calling for help.

Brendan found the front door open a crack, which further solidified his belief that wasn't an accident. He rushed in, smoke curling all around him. "Chen? Mai?" He made a quick trip through the restaurant, seeing nothing but smoke as he dodged flames. Most of the flames seemed to be upstairs, but they were spreading fast and the air was becoming too hot to breathe. He knew he was almost out of time. He rushed to the stairs in the back, taking them two at a time to the first landing.

He turned to go up the second half and gasped. Most of the top floor was involved, but he thought he saw a small path down the center of the hall above. Pulling his coat up over his mouth with his left hand, he squinted his eyes against the heated air and smoke and began making his way carefully up the stairs. He didn't have the breath to call out for the people he was searching for. He had made it almost halfway when the building rocked with an explosion. There was a blast of hot air and something impacted his left shoulder, sending him flying back into the wall below. He was briefly aware of a flash of hot pain before his head rammed against the wall and everything went black.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Thoughtcrimes: The Price of Honor – Chapter 2**

"Miss McAllister? I'm Dr. Crenshaw."

Freya stood immediately to face a tall man with thinning brown hair and glasses. "How's Brendan?"

"Are you a relative?"

Freya shook her head, rubbing her hands nervously against her pants. "No, but we're partners. Please, how is he?"

The doctor nodded, seeming to be satisfied. "He's stable for now. He took in quite a bit of smoke, so we're watching his oxygen levels pretty closely. He's got first and second degree burns on his face, his left arm, and most of his left side. There are a few small areas of third degree burns, but they are small enough I don't think they'll be too problematic. He's also got a cracked collarbone, dislocated shoulder, and three cracked ribs. Was he ill recently?"

Freya furrowed her brow and slowly shook her head. "No . . . why?"

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "He's slightly dehydrated and seems to be exhausted."

Freya sighed and bowed her head forward for a moment. "No, he's a chronic workaholic obsessed with an important case. He has a tendency to overdo it."

The doctor nodded and smiled. "I understand. I see he's an agent with the NSA. I suppose that helps explain things."

"Can I see him?" Freya needed to reassure herself he was really okay. When the fireman had carried him out of the building moments before the whole thing collapsed, she had first thought he was dead. His clothes had still been smoldering, his jacket and shirt burned almost completely off the left side of his body. He had stopped breathing for a few frantic moments, scaring her to death. After slapping a mask on his face and squeezing the balloon on the side several times until Brendan resumed breathing, the paramedics had seemed very anxious to get him to the hospital. Their thoughts had scared Freya even more.

"Yes, you can sit with him if you like. We'll be transferring him to a room in a little while." _As near as I can tell, he's lucky to be alive._

Freya nodded and followed the doctor. She was a bit shaken when she entered the room and looked at the figure in the bed. Brendan was hooked up to all kinds of monitors, an IV, and an oxygen mask. What she could see of his face was bright red, as if he had a bad sunburn. His left arm and shoulder were heavily bandaged, as was most of his mid-section. His left arm was secured to his body with a sling to keep it from moving. A sheet covered him from the waist down. What she could see of his left chest and side of his neck were also red, with bruises beginning to darken underneath the burned skin. Scrapes and small cuts dotted the exposed skin.

The doctor paused beside the bed to look back at Freya. "He should be all right, but he's in for a rough few days. As you can see, flying debris from the explosion gave him several abrasions and lacerations. Fortunately there was very little internal bleeding and it seems to have revolved itself. I'm a little concerned about his low oxygen levels, but they've begun to come up. We'll be moving him to a private room shortly, I just want to watch him for a bit longer."

Freya nodded and walked over to where the doctor had pulled up a chair. "Has anyone checked you out?"

Freya shook her head. "No, I didn't go in the building. I was telling the firemen about Brendan being inside when there was an explosion. I should never have let him go in."

Dr. Crenshaw shifted his weight, chewing on his bottom lip for a second. "Miss, I don't really know what the situation is here, but I know that if he is as obsessive as you've indicated about his job, it's doubtful you would have been able to stop him. Sometimes you just have to let people do what they're going to do." _I really hate to see her feeling guilty when she probably couldn't have done anything to stop him. He sounds like my brother . . . stubborn as a mule._

Freya couldn't help the tired smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I know, you're probably right. Thank you."

The physician looked relieved that she had accepted his words. "I'll check back on him in a few minutes. Call the nurse if you need anything or he has any trouble." With a quick nod, he left the room.

Freya sat staring at Brendan, watching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to the quiet hiss of the oxygen and the beeping of the heart monitor. She replayed everything in her head, looking for things she could have done to prevent this. She finally admitted that she could not have stopped him from going after Chen and if she had gone with him, she'd either be dead or lying in a bed herself. She'd done the right thing by waiting to alert the fireman where he was.

A moan caught her attention and she jumped to her feet, taking Brendan's right hand in hers. She was careful not to disturb the IV in the back of his hand or the monitor clipped to his finger. "Brendan, it's Freya. I'm here."

His eyes fluttered, finally opening just a slit. She realized for the first time that his lids were slightly swollen, making it hard for him to open his eyes. "Brendan, can you hear me? Don't try to talk. You took in a lot of smoke."

_Eyes burn . . . throat hurts . . . everything hurts._

"I know. The building exploded with you inside. You were hurt pretty badly, but you're going to be okay, you just need to rest."

She could tell when his memory kicked in by the way his eyes tried to widen, even if she hadn't been able to read his thoughts. He sucked in a gasp of air suddenly, which triggered a coughing spell. She got one hand behind his back and helped sit him up a little as he desperately fought for air, his ribs and head protesting loudly. When it was finally over, tears streamed down his cheeks. After getting him settled back against the pillows, she got a tissue and gently wiped the moisture from his burned face.

"Just try to breathe, Brendan. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

_Are you okay?_

Freya smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine. Unlike you, I didn't run into a burning building."

_Chen?_

Freya looked down at his desperate face, glad he couldn't read her mind. She doubted anyone was left alive in the building, but she didn't know for sure that anyone else had been in there. "I don't know. Maybe he wasn't in there."

Brendan closed his eyes. _He was in there._

"We don't know that. There's no use getting upset until we know for sure. They're going to move you to a room in a little while, so why don't you get some rest."

Brendan opened his eyes again. What she could see of them was dark and dull, a combination of pain and sadness for what they both suspected was true. His breathing hitched a second and he tensed at a wave of pain. She could read his thoughts as he tried to ride it out and she wanted to be able to take it away. When it finally passed, he relaxed, his eyes drifting closed as he once again went to sleep. Freya found herself feeling relieved.

She startled at the sound of the door opening, turning to see Michael Welles and Jon Harper enter the room, both looking worried. She gently set Brendan's hand back down on the bed and walked over to stand by them so they could whisper quietly.

"How is he?" asked Harper, his eyes studying the limp form of one of his top agents.

"The doctor said he'd be okay, but I think he's hurting. He woke up for a few minutes just now. Do you know if they found Chen or Mai?"

Harper sighed and frowned. "So far they've recovered one body and it appears to be that of Chen. The place is still hot though, so it may several hours before they finish sifting through everything. He didn't get a chance to tell you when the meeting is?"

Freya shook her head. "No, he wanted to meet with us. I guess Walters found out and got to him first. Brendan's going to be devastated and he's going to blame himself. He already does."

"Are you all right?" asked Welles, looking Freya over for signs of injury.

"I'm fine. Brendan made me wait by the car for the firemen."

Michael nodded. "At least he watches out for you."

Freya looked back at Brendan, his features tight with pain even in sleep. "Yeah, but who watches out for him?"

oOo

Brendan drifted in and out in a haze of pain. He wanted to surface. He knew there was something he needed to be doing, but he couldn't get his body to cooperate. Voices came and went, some familiar, some not. Sometimes there were touches that made the pain flare until he couldn't breathe. That was usually followed by a calm voice that he knew and someone gently stroking his arm or his face until the pain faded and the breaths came easier. Through all of it, he couldn't bring himself to enough awareness to understand what was happening.

Images ran through his dreams, fire and smoke and heat, the feeling that he couldn't breathe. He was looking for someone. Freya? No, Freya was safe. He kept pushing on, his lungs and eyes burning, unable to see through the dense smoke. Panic began to fill him.

"Brendan, wake up, you're dreaming. Brendan?"

His eyes snapped open, startling Freya almost as much as it startled him. It took a minute for him to realize the frantic beeping was the monitor advertising that his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. He eased his head back against the pillows, noting the oxygen mask had been replaced with nasal cannula. He supposed that was a sign of improvement. He looked up into Freya's worried and tired face. _Water?_

Freya reached for a cup on the side table and peered down into it. "No water, but they left some ice chips for when you woke up. I think there's still a few that haven't melted." She took the plastic spoon from the cup and scooped up a couple of small, half-melted ice chips. Leaning over, she carefully placed them to his lips and he sucked them in, feeling their cool moisture relieve some of the dryness making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

"More," he whispered.

Freya fished out a couple more and they repeated the action. Brendan closed his eyes a second while he enjoyed the melting ice. The pain in his shoulder and side was notching steadily upward, but his head was clearer than it had been in a while. He opened his eyes to find Freya studying him.

"Hey," he said roughly, his voice hoarse and low.

Freya gave a small, almost pained smile. "Hey, yourself. Are you trying to scare me to death, because you came pretty close."

Brendan coughed, gritting his teeth at the feeling that someone was stabbing him in the side. He was grateful when Freya spooned him a little of the melted ice and it relieved the tickle in his throat. "Thanks."

"You probably shouldn't talk much yet. Should I get the doctor? Are you in much pain?"

_I'm fine for now. How long have I been here? What about Chen and Mai?_

"You've been here since last night and it's about . . . five-thirty now. They found Chen's body, but not Mai's. Brendan, she wasn't in the building, so she must be alive somewhere."

Brendan gave a small nod. He'd known Chen was dead. _They have Mai, then, and we have to find her. We have two days left to figure out where the meeting is taking place._

"No, Brendan, you don't need to worry about figuring anything out. You're going to be here for a while. Harper has already assigned someone to take over the investigation."

"No, he can't," said Brendan fiercely, trying to pull the covers back.

Freya grabbed his arm and pushed the covers back in place. "Leave that alone. You aren't going anywhere. You have cracked ribs and burns and a cracked collarbone. You stopped breathing for a while last night at the scene. Brendan . . . you could have died." The stress in her voice got Brendan's attention.

"But I didn't," he said simply.

"Please, for once, just let someone else handle it. How long do you think you'd last? I'm betting you can't even stand on your own."

Brendan considered her words and reluctantly admitted to himself that she was probably right. He hurt almost everywhere and it had sucked what little energy he had to throw the covers back and resist her efforts to push him back in bed. He relaxed back into the pillows, his arm, shoulder, and side throbbing relentlessly. _Okay, you win._

Freya sighed and sank down into the chair next to the bed, looking relieved. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tired lines in her face. She looked more exhausted than he'd ever seen. "How long have you been here?"

Freya shrugged her shoulders, looking like it didn't matter.

"You never left, did you?"

Freya didn't answer, just looked down at her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. "I couldn't just leave you here to wake up alone."

Brendan smiled a little, the effort costing him when it pulled on the burned skin of his face, but he barely noticed. "Thanks," he said warmly.

Freya grinned. "I didn't mind. I needed to make sure you were okay."

Brendan looked at her for a moment, his eyelids already feeling heavy again. "Go home and get some sleep. I'll be okay."

Freya shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving you here by yourself."

They were interrupted by the door opening and a doctor coming in. Freya nodded to the woman. "Dr. Margay, Brendan woke up a few minutes ago."

The short, dark woman with dark eyes and a big smile walked over to the bed, clipboard in her hand. "Good, I'll finally get to meet Agent Dean. I'm Dr. Margay. How are you feeling this afternoon."

Brendan looked up at the doctor, trying not to move so he didn't aggravate the already escalating pain. "Like I've been blown up," he quipped.

Margay chuckled, her eyes dancing. "Oh, this one's a live wire, I can tell. Let's just have a look at you."

Freya watched as the doctor checked Brendan's bandages and injuries. She was aware of the pain stirred up by every poke, prod, and flinch. Brendan carried on a constant mental pep talk about not complaining or whining. She almost smiled when he started telling himself not to scream like a girl.

The doctor finally finished and spent a couple of minutes adding observations to Brendan's chart. Brendan used the time to unwind his tensed muscles and relax back into the bed, the pain fading back to bearable level.

"You're progressing well, Agent Dean. Oxygen levels are up, although I'm going to leave the nasal cannula in place a little longer just to make sure, especially with those cracked ribs. Now that you're conscious and a little more lucid, I'll have them hook up a morphine pump so you can control your own pain meds as you need them. Are familiar with how that works."

Brendan smiled. "Oh, yeah, I've used them before."

"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that. I'd like to try getting something to eat in you, probably start with something easy like soup. I'll have it brought up while you're awake and have someone to help you. Will you be staying tonight, Miss McAllister?"

Freya said, "Yes," at the same time Brendan said, "No."

"Yes, I'm staying and please call me Freya," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Brendan.

Brendan scowled back at her. "No, she's not," he tried to say forcefully, but his voice was still hoarse, barely above a whisper. "She needs to get some rest. She was here all night."

Dr. Margay nodded and pursed her lips. "Well, how about we compromise. I can have a cot brought in so Miss . . . uh, so Freya can stay. That way she can get some rest, but she'll be here if you need anything. And I'm guessing she'll rest easier if she can just open her eyes and check on you."

Freya nodded enthusiastically. "That would be great, Dr. Margay, thank you."

Brendan didn't look very happy, but he nodded. "All right. But you have to get some sleep, promise me."

Freya put her hands on her hips a moment as she looked at Brendan. "This from the man who goes days without sleep. You're a hypocrite, Brendan Dean."

Brendan just blinked his eyes sleepily at her. _I can't help who I am any more than you can help who you are._

Freya's expression softened and she smiled at him. "Yeah, I know. Guess I'll keep you around anyway." They both smiled at the odd look the doctor gave them.

oOo

Freya shot up to a sitting position, her breaths coming hard and fast. She ran a trembling hand through her hair and looked around the dark room. Moonlight flowing through the window, illuminated Brendan's sleeping figure. Swinging her legs around, Freya stood up and walked over to stand beside the bed, trying to rid her mind of the image from her dreams. She could still see the paramedics turn away from his still body, telling her they had lost him. She rubbed her forehead against the headache that had begun early in the afternoon, partially from stress and partially from the lack of sleep.

_Another dream?_

Freya dropped her hand and looked into Brendan's eyes, watching her carefully. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I've mostly been dozing in and out. Can't seem to really get to sleep. Are you okay? That's the second time tonight."

Freya frowned. She hadn't even been aware he was awake after her first nightmare. The building had collapsed into a burning heap of debris with Brendan inside in that one. She was surprised she didn't wake up screaming, because she'd been doing just that in her dream. "I'm fine, just . . . can't seem to shake this. I've never come this close to losing you before."

_It's nice that you care._

Freya slapped him lightly on his good arm. "Of course I care, silly. We're partners." She looked at him for a moment. "Just, quit dying in my dreams, please."

Brendan frowned, wincing as he shifted positions. "I'll work on that. You need to get some sleep."

Freya yawned and nodded. "I know and so do you." She glanced over at the pump set up beside the bed and connected to the IV. "Are you even using that thing?"

"I'm trying to wean myself. I need to have a clear head so I can think."

"Brendan, you need to take the morphine when you're hurting so you can sleep and heal. Quit being a stupid hero. Sometimes you make me so mad."

"I can't help it, Freya, I need to –"

"Yes, you can help it. I had to learn to block out all the voices around me, to pick when to listen to them. You have to learn when to block stuff out and move on, when to let things go."

Brendan was tired and his throat was dry, a tickle beginning to develop. He wanted to avoid coughing at almost any cost because of the pain it would stir in his ribs. _I know what you're saying, and I'll even admit that you're probably right. But this is not the time. They killed Chen and they have Mai. This isn't just national security, it's personal._

Freya stared at him for a few moments. "All right, I understand that. But you can't do anything tonight. Use the pump and get some rest. Then I can get some rest."

Brendan continued to look at her for a moment before looking down at the bed. He moved his hand over and slowly picked up the pump trigger. Holding it carefully, he finally lifted his finger and depressed the plunger. He felt the drug hit his system a few moments later, the sharp edge of pain slowly backing away. "Mmm, 'kay. Did it." He could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. "Go sleep."

"I will," she said softly. She stood watching him until his lids drifted closed and didn't open again. "Get some rest," she whispered before returning to the cot and firmly embedding in her mind that fact that he was alive and was going to stay that way.

oOo

Brendan drifted in and out for most of the next day. In his more lucid moments, he wondered if Freya was pressing the pump for him when he was dozing because he couldn't seem to think or stay awake more than a few minutes at a time. He was vaguely aware of visitors checking on him, but sometimes he just couldn't seem to get his eyes open long enough to acknowledge them. At the edge of his consciousness, the need to be doing something for the investigation kept nagging at him.

He woke the morning of the third day with a clear head and a feeling of dread. Freya had gone home to change clothes and get a shower. Brendan was left to think about the fact that the weapons and explosives would be sold that night and, as far as he knew, they still had no idea where. And then there was Mai, probably scared out of her mind, if she wasn't dead. He shuddered, mentally apologizing to Chen for screwing up so badly.

"I heard that."

He looked up see Freya standing in the door. He hadn't realized she'd been gone long that long. Then he saw Dr. Welles and Jon Harper standing behind her. She moved forward, walking over to stand by the bed. "You didn't screw up, Brendan. You couldn't have known."

"Agent Dean," said Harper sternly. "This is not your fault. There is no way you could have predicted this. Chen Wei has helped you before and he knew the risks. I dare say even if he knew the outcome, he probably would have insisted on helping you. He was a man of honor."

Brendan trembled at that, feeling almost like a jolt of electricity had just zapped him. _Sometimes the price of honor is too high._

"Brendan, they have some information about the buy." Freya put a steadying hand on his arm.

Harper nodded his head. "We pulled a fingerprint at that warehouse where the goods were stored for a while and traced it back to two-time loser named Danny Reed. We asked around and followed a few leads and finally grabbed him an hour ago at one of his girlfriend's." Harper smiled smugly. "You would have enjoyed it. We pulled him right out of bed."

Brendan had to smile at that. "Sweet."

"Kunzel thought so. We want to borrow Freya here to question him. We know he won't willingly give anything up, but with the right questions, he might be thinking about what we need."

Brendan nodded. "I'm coming."

A chorus of "No," echoed through the room.

Brendan ignored them and began peeling back the tape from the IV. They had gotten rid of the nasal cannula, heart monitor, and catheter that morning, making it a lot easier for him to get up. "Where's my clothes?"

"In a cut up bloody heap in the trash," answered Freya.

Brendan looked down at the gown. He couldn't go question a suspect dressed in nothing but a hospital gown. Not a very intimidating figure. "Get me some scrubs and we can swing by my place for some clothes."

Freya grabbed his arm as he slid the IV catheter out. "No, Brendan, you can't even walk."

"I made it to the bathroom this morning, I can do this."

Freya didn't let go. "You had help, in the form of a very large male nurse. You can't even stand by yourself."

Brendan stared at her, his expression grim. _Let me show you. I need to do this._

Freya let go and stood back, her expression daring him to get out of bed. He used his good arm to help swing himself around so his legs hung off the bed. His ribs cried out loudly, making him pause to breathe through the pain. After a few moments, he slid off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor and sending a shock wave up through his torso. He held onto the bed railing as the room spun around wildly. Slowly, everything settled and he straightened until he was standing unaided by the bed. "See, I'm good."

Harper sighed and exchanged a look with Welles before facing Brendan again. "All right, you can try it. The minute this is over, you're back here for however long they say. You're back before that if you fall on your face."

Brendan smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir. I can do this. I need to do this."

Harper sighed. "You're nothing, if not persistent, Dean. I just hope we don't end up scooping you off the floor."

Freya sighed and shook her head. "I guess I'll see about borrowing some scrubs so I can get you to your place. That is, unless you want to flash everyone on the floor."

Brendan sheepishly reached his right arm back and closed the back of the gown, even though there was no one behind him. "Scrubs would be good."

oOo

Freya glanced sideways at Brendan, noting his pallor and the light sheen of sweat on his face. His left arm was in a sling and secured to his waist with a strap to limit movement. His face was still red, but not as much as it had been earlier. He moved slowly and methodically, being careful not to jar himself any more than necessary. Freya was just amazed that he was still on his feet. They paused at the door to the interrogation room, where Jon Harper stood waiting on them.

"We'll be watching. Brendan, let us know if you need help."

Brendan nodded. "We'll be fine." He took a second to take a deep breath and wipe the pain from his features. He still didn't cut a very intimidating figure, but considering they probably thought he was dead, maybe he could still take command of the situation, at least enough so that Freya could do her thing. Pushing the door open, he swallowed hard and sauntered into the room.

Danny Reed sat at the table, deep frown on his face as he leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of Brendan and his chair came down with a thump. He was slightly overweight, with brown curly hair and a scar down his right cheek. _What the heck? I thought he was in the building when it went up._

"What's the matter?" asked Brendan. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Reed recovered quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brendan smiled. "No, I guess not. Just remember, I'm a little more resilient than I look. Now, moving on, we know the meeting is tonight, we just need to know what time and where."

Reed grinned and leaned his chair on the two back legs again, smiling smugly. "I don't know nothing about no meeting, cop." His eyes strayed over to Freya. "Now she's pretty fine. Why don't you have her ask me?" He ran his eyes over her, licking his lips slowly. "Hey honey, why don't you hang around after your stuffed shirt friend leaves and I'll show you a good time."

Freya slowly let a smile play out over her face. "Well," she drawled seductively. "I could stay for a while, but after I break both your arms, you may not feel like playing."

Reed chuckled. "Feisty. I like a woman who fights it."

_I'd like to cram that smug smile down your throat followed by breaking your fool neck. _Brendan flashed Freya a tight smile, knowing she had read his thoughts. He turned back around to the suspect. "Let's work on where first."

"Don't have any idea." _And you'll never think to look in the abandoned building three doors down from your friend's burned out restaurant. We're right under you nose and you can't find us. You people are so pathetically stupid. Yep, at midnight tonight, we become rich and your Chinese girlfriend goes with our clients as a sales bonus. I hear they know interesting things to do to women. I almost wish I could tell you just to see the look on your face._

Freya nudged Brendan in the arm. "We have what we need."

The relief on Brendan's face was obvious. "Everything?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "Everything."

Brendan struggled to his feet, letting Freya take his arm and help him. Once standing, he looked down at Reed, who had let his chair descend to the floor again and was looking highly confused. "Thanks, Reed. We'll say hi to Walters for you." As much as he wanted to see Reed's expression, he wanted to walk out of the room with an air of arrogant confidence even more. He knew Reed was rattled and he relished every second of it.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Brendan sagged against the wall, his arm, shoulder, and side throbbing in time with his heartbeat. "Brendan, are you all right?"

Brendan straightened at the sound of Freya's voice and the sight of Harper and Kunzel coming out of the observation room Kunzel frowned and shook his head. "Brendan, you look like crap. Shouldn't you be in a hospital or something?"

"I'm fine. Freya, when's the meeting?" Brendan hoped no one noticed the way he had his arm braced against his ribs.

Freya looked at him with worry. "Meeting is tonight at midnight in an abandoned building just three doors down from the restaurant. They have Mai and are planning to give her to the buyers as a present, so she'll be there as well."

Brendan sighed and seemed to slump. "Thank goodness, that means she's still alive. We'll have to be careful that we don't get her killed when we take them down."

Harper raised his eyebrows. "We? I had planned on sending you back to the hospital. You can barely stand."

"Yes sir, I want in on this."

"Absolutely not, Agent Dean. Kunzel or Freya can take you back to the hospital and we'll take care of this."

Brendan narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I'll just leave. I can rest between now and then when we're setting things up. Sir, I need to be there."

"I can keep an eye on him," offered Freya. She wanted him back in the hospital as much as anyone, but she knew how important this was to him.

Harper stared at Brendan for several quiet moments. "You're in the back. We don't need you slowing us down."

"Understood," Brendan said quickly.

"Okay, you're in, against my better judgment. The minute we take them down, you're on your way back to the hospital. Come on, we've got a lot of work to do before tonight."

Brendan looked down at Freya. "Thanks."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's what partners do."

oOo

Brendan watched the building, listening intently to his radio. Freya stood beside him, shivering in the cold air. The snow had drifted into a deep pile where they stood huddled against the building and his feet were numb. He barely noticed, his attention focused on the building and the radio.

"They're exchanging money. Move in now."

Brendan filed in behind the line of officers making their way to the building across the street, Freya at his side and he knew watching him closely. He had his gun in his right hand, ready to help in any way he could. The door splintered as the forces in front of him crashed through and he immediately heard shouts and sounds of gunfire. He hunched over as they ran in, trying to make himself a smaller target.

He ducked behind a stack of crates, Freya falling in beside him. They peered around the boxes to see agents fighting with suspects everywhere. Brendan was dying to get in the middle of it, but he knew he'd just get in the way. They watched for several seconds before they noticed one of the agents near them get knocked down. Before he could object, Freya rushed over to help. There was no way he could use his gun in the chaos without endangering some of his own men.

A crash near the back of the room to his left caught his attention and he saw Walters darting around between stacks trying to make an escape. No one was following him, so Brendan hurried to catch up, his arm held tightly to his side and ignoring the pain. He lost sight of him for a moment, but then Walters went for the door. Still not having a clear shot, he ran for the man, lowering his head and plowing into him with his right shoulder. The two men hit the ground hard. Walters had twisted in such a way that Brendan came down on his injured arm and shoulder with the large man on top of him. The ensuing agony sent his head reeling, his brain unable to comprehend anything beyond the pain.

"Brendan Dean, again. This is the last time you get in my way." The voice seemed distant and Brendan could do nothing to move. Cold metal pressed against his temple and that didn't seem distant at all. "Say goodbye, Dean." He flinched hard at the sound of the gunshot, but the pain lasted barely a heartbeat.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Thoughtcrimes: The Price of Honor - Chapter 3**

It seemed wrong when sounds began to filter in. He tried to open his eyes, but his head was killing him. Oh yeah, getting shot in the head would do that. He tried again and found himself staring at the ceiling. His head hurt too much to move it any more, so he just lay there. He could hear the heart monitor, so he was alive. _I'm alive? How did that happen?_

"Yes, you're alive. You've officially been designated the luckiest person in the hospital." Freya's smiling face came into view above him.

"What . . . happened?" Even breathing hurt, so he wasn't planning on moving anything he didn't have to for a while.

"Kunzel and I saw you tackle Walters. By the time we got over there, he had the gun to your head so Kunzel got off a shot as quickly as he could. He nailed Walters, but he must have been ready to fire because as he fell, his gun discharged. Fortunately, by then the angle was enough that it just skimmed your skull and left you with a concussion and the need for about fifteen stitches."

"Thought I was dead."

Freya let out a deep breath. "At first, so did we. There . . . was a lot of blood."

Brendan swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered. "Couldn't let him . . . get away."

He felt a hand on his good shoulder. "He didn't. We found Mai upstairs and she's fine. A few bruises and scrapes, but other than that, she's okay."

_Thank goodness. Why do I hurt so bad?_

"Well, not only did you get shot in the head, but when you fell you ended up turning your cracked collarbone into a broken one. You somehow avoided breaking any ribs, but the doctor said they were even more bruised than before and that you'd probably be pretty sore."

"Master of the understatement. Did we get everyone?"

Freya leaned her head back and shook it briefly at the switch in subject matter. "Uh, yes, we did. And we got the weapons and explosives as well. Everything is taken care of Brendan. You just need to relax and rest. Doctor Margay is talking about putting you in restraints to keep you here this time."

"That won't be necessary, will it Agent Dean?" Harper walked in with Agents Kunzel and Patel trailing behind him. Brendan managed to turn his head just enough to see them.

"No, sir. I don't think I'll be moving any time soon." Brendan planned on lying as still as possible. Every movement, including breathing, hurt.

Kunzel grinned at Brendan. "You still look like crap, Dean. But it's a lot better than you looked last night."

Brendan gave a small smile. "So I hear. I also hear I owe you my life."

Kunzel shrugged his shoulders. "The guy was pissing me off."

Brendan chuckled, an action that made him wince and wish he hadn't. He swallowed, taking a few shallow breaths as he concentrated on riding out the wave of stabbing pain. "Thanks."

"Don't hurt yourself, Dean. Who are we going to make fun of until you get back on your feet?" Kunzel asked, a big grin on his face.

"You'll think of something," Brendan mumbled.

Dr. Margay came through the door, stopping a moment to process the people in the room. "Agent Dean, you seem to be popular this morning. I need all you people out of here so my patient can get some rest. Some much needed rest," she emphasized.

Brendan flinched at the stern look she gave him. Harper nodded down at him. "Good job, Dean." He stared at Brendan for several seconds. "And I mean, you did a good job. Just accept it and get some rest. I don't want to see you until you have a note from your doctor saying you are clear for duty."

"Yes, sir," Brendan mumbled.

Kunzel and Patel both told Brendan to feel better before following Harper out the door. Margay watched them leave and then motioned toward the closing door. "I like that guy."

oOo

Brendan stood in the drizzling rain, the coat doing little to keep out the cold. He was standing in the cemetery, watching the man beside the open grave talk in Chinese about the life of one of the best men he'd ever known. He felt like his body weighed a ton and the world couldn't possibly look more bleak. He shivered, the cold making his shoulder and ribs ache in a way he would regret later.

The rain suddenly stopped hitting him as a presence moved in beside him. Freya held the umbrella over the two of them as they stood in the back of the crowd. _What are you doing here?_

"Showing my respect for a man of honor," she whispered.

_How did you know where I was?_

"I went to the hospital and they said you'd already left. I remembered the funeral was today, so I thought I'd join you. Besides, you need someone to look after you. Two hours out of the hospital and you're standing in the rain."

"Couldn't find my umbrella." They stood in silence, watching the ceremony in front of them. When it was over, he watched the line of people comforting Mai. She had come to see him in the hospital and told him she didn't blame him for what happened, but she'd been cool and aloof. Freya hadn't offered anything about what the girl was thinking, so he took that to mean that on some level, Mai held him responsible. That was only fair. He was.

"Let's go," he said, looking up at the dark, gray sky. The bleary weather fit his mood and seemed appropriate for saying goodbye to such a rare man.

"Don't you want to talk to Mai?"

He looked at the girl, her eyes puffy and red from crying. She made eye contact for a just a moment and then turned away. "No. I think I'm the last person she wants to see right now."

Freya looked at Mai for a second and then back to Brendan. He was hurting inside and out and so cold he was shaking. "She'll be ready one day. She just needs some time. Come on, I'll make you some soup."

They walked a few steps. "What kind of soup?"

Freya shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, what kind do you like?"

"Potato soup."

Freya frowned. "I've never made potato soup. How about chicken noodle from a can?"

"How about I take us to McCann's Bar and Grill? They actually have the best potato soup I've ever eaten and a really great steak sandwich. It'll be my thank you for supplying the umbrella."

"You're always feeding me lately."

Brendan smiled. "And you're always complaining I don't eat enough. So now you can see me eat."

Freya nodded. "Fair enough. Okay, you're on, but with one condition. After we eat, you let me take you back to your place and tuck you into bed with plenty of blankets. I know you're freezing and that can't be good for someone who's been in the hospital for almost a week."

Brendan smiled. "Are you still trying to take care of me?"

Freya sighed. "Well, obviously someone has to."

She heard a muffled, "Thanks," as she got into the car.

THE END


End file.
